


Of Chlorine and Shitty Spaniards: a Lovino Vargas Romance Novel

by TheFluffehGAMER



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, And Lovino is weird as hell, Antonio is a baywatch cliché, Comedy, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Romano's Filthy Vocabulary, Skrews with cannon ages
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-08 11:53:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4303974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFluffehGAMER/pseuds/TheFluffehGAMER
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To make everything clear, it was the tomato bastard’s fault for not wearing shirts and then deciding to dump his crap next to my seat, out of around thirty open plastic chair things at the pool. And then going on to do idiotic Spanish things, like impromptu dancing and shoving churros in my mouth, smiling stupidly through it all like the bastard he is. And you know what? It actually fucking worked. And if anyone asks, I did not accidently nearly kiss the bastard. Nope, not at all.</p><p>(WILL BE CONTINUED TOWARDS NOVEMBER 2017)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bang Bang There goes your Heart

**Author's Note:**

> This is about the third AU I've started. I need h elp.  
> Anyway, after running around with my darker fic I decided to start on something more light-hearted and less depressing. And somehow I got the idea of Lovino going to a pool and Antonio being a complete hunk a great idea. This is why we don't listen to Bang Bang when writing, kiddies.

Usually I’d be gone before Nonno or Feliciano could hook me in to family bonding time, however, today I was once again dragged into a piss poor attempt at trying to get me to open up.

If I wasn’t supporting myself over Feliciano and trying not to spill death threats to my oh-so wonderful grandfather, while trying to reach behind me to get my hand on the red dot, I’d be down at the pool by now. “I swear to dio that I will hurt both of you after this,” I growled, their insufferable giggling making me livid. “Of course, Lovi,” Nonno replied easily, flicking the damned black spinner that was currently ruining my life. I felt Feliciano move, the inevitable occurring. He yelped and collapsed under me, a bored expression plastered on my face. “Well, that’s uh- five to Lovi and one to Feli…” Nonno announced, a sigh escaping my chapped lips. “I’ll be going now,” I exclaimed suddenly, scrambling away from my crazy family members, just missing Feliciano’s iron grip and Nonno’s lecture, happily scooping up my favourite knapsack without a second glance behind me.

I grabbed my red bike from the garage, pissed that I’d lost around half an hour of alone time to fucking Twister. I swung my leg over my fifteenth birthday present, my grimy olive eyes blinded by the fading light. I pushed off down the sloping road, leaving our stupid house-on-the hill to go straight for the estate’s public pool.

Most found it noisy, irritating and all round unsanitary, and I would agree with them if I didn’t have my main reason for going there. Besides the sounds of water being so relaxing and the oddly joyful scenes of children playing around with their parents in the kiddies pool, my main reason was selfish and a bit c-creepy, however I can justify it! The main reason is that I basically go there to sketch chiselled chests and nice asses. N-now, don’t get the wrong idea! The only reason I do it is because as much as I want to go to those naked sketch workshop things, I’m only fucking 16 so I’m not really allowed, like I’d want to see boobs and dicks… okay that last one is a bit of a lie, but we don’t talk about that. I mean, I’d only really realised I was gay as fuck when I couldn’t stop having dreams about gigantic orgies… with men. Not even when I kept feeling weird around my best friend. Luckily, that feeling was fleeting, because he got together with potato bastard no.2 a few weeks after I’d decided that I really did not want a piece of that Canadian.

So there is my main reason that brought me to the familiar grey building, my bike taking the place I’d put it since day one, chaining it up with a matching lock and key. I smiled softly as I left my pride and joy –for now, because I’ll only settle for a Ferrari for my 21st\- and strode into the humid air. The chlorine hit me like one of Feliciano’s hugs, hard, fast and expected. And shit, did I miss it.

I checked in with the white card that was a ticket to everywhere in the estate, besides a load of cash or tits -depending on which guard was posted. I took my sweet damn time getting settled in my seat, the one that was quite far from others, but not exactly out of sight, the one that I’d carved my name into overtime. No one, and I mean no one, had ever dared to sit next to the infamous Lovino Romano Vargas. It kinda happens when you call every ‘assholes’ or ‘bastards.’ So you can expect me for being a little more than surprised when this tall bastard (See?) comes along, tapping my shoulder and gesturing to my earphones. Rather hesitantly I pulled the music from my ears and gave this guy a glare, which he easily waved off as if I wasn’t actually threatening him with a look that could possibly kill. “Hola! I was wondering if I could put my stuff next to you?” No, bastard, “What the fu-““Thanks!” He beamed, tossing his shit onto the seat next to mine, as I spluttered to something I didn’t agree to. A growl grew in my throat as I was prepared to chew this guy’s- hot damn, where the fuck has that booty been my entire life? I wondered, my eyes widening as I watched the stupid Spaniard waltz over to one of the lanes, pulling off his shirt in one go.

I’ll admit one thing, and it was that this guy was not fit to walk this earth with a fucking six-pack and an ass that would make Nicki Minaj cry with joy. And believe me when I say that _‘Bang Bang’_ fit real well with what I saw, considering it was blasting through my ears at the moment when he decided to dive in the water with little to no splash. With flaming cheeks, I returned to my sketch book, partially distracted by the mountain of crap next to me and the wonderful body in the pool doing lap upon lap. I didn’t dare let my mind or eyes drift to the impressive display, my poor heart already thumping too fast for my liking.

However, my fucking phone alarm jolted me out of the dreamlike state I’d been put in, my page filled with aimless doodles and a few select bodies, most far too close to a certain bastard’s. I groaned and shut my book, irritated that I had to go back to the insanity that was my family. Sure, I loved them and wouldn’t trade them for anything, but they were a bunch of wackos, compared to my amazingness. But as I started to pack up at ten minutes to five, a shadow blocked out the florescent lighting. A very wet shadow.

“Thanks again for watching my stuff, amigo,” The teen grinned, my cheeks doing their fucked up version of a blush, which looked more like I was having a stroke than bashfully making my attraction known. “Whatever, bastard,” I sighed, rolling my eyes as I slipped in the A4 sketchbook, trying not to seem too rushed, “It’s not like anyone would come near this shitty spot.” He tilted his head in this adorable way as confusion passed over his mostly chiselled features. He’s got to be like 19 or something with that body,I thought, slinging my bag over my shoulder. “Why would they not-?” His own comment was cut short by a gasp, one that reminded me of a girl that had just found out that they got One Direction tickets, and I would know, because that’s what Feliciano got on his sweet sixteen this year, and he had squealed high enough to create a crack in Nonno’s wine glass.

“Are those tomatoes on your bag?” He cooed, my mind near malfunctioning at his overly happy statement. “Yes?” I replied uncertainly, feeling a bit uncomfortable when he leaned so close that droplets from his hair dripped onto my shirt. “I love tomatoes; I find it so hard to find good ones here without growing them,” He chirped, my eyes finding it difficult to look away from his own green eyes that reminded me of Italy’s fields in the summer. I took a cautious step back and coughed awkwardly, considering that he still hadn’t put on a shirt, “If you want fucking delicious tomatoes then go to the organic markets, you idiot,” I easily sneered, deciding that I’d rather risk losing him than opening my heart up to be fatally wounded again.

His eyes brightened and he held out his hand, that idiotic grin near cracking his face. “Antonio Fernández Carriedo, I’m new here,” He said, while I ignored his outstretched hand. “That’s a fucking mouthful,” I replied, snorting at his rather stunned expression, “Name’s Lovino, and I suggest you leave me the fuck alone, tomato bastard,” I growled, turning swiftly on my heel and making the familiar walk down to my bike. Nice Lovino, now you’ll never have a single fucking chance with that,I groaned at my own temperament, knowing that when I went back to school everyone new would fall for the fucking sunshine that was Feliciano Vargas. I didn’t hate him for it; I hated me for not trying to be friendlier or being better than Feli- not like my chances were high anyway. He was better than me in many things; Art, singing, cooking and even getting boyfriends. The only thing I truly was superior in was dancing. He seemed to have two left feet in most things, except in p-pole dancing –I swear it was Nonno’s fault that he signed us up for the wrong class- and even then I still overshadowed him in that topic.

I settled for ‘ _The Only Exception’_ to match my rather lovesick and melancholic feelings that I hoped would go away by tomorrow. As I unchained my bike, I happily let my mood boil and stew into something bitter and burnt from years of disappointment, a familiar taste. But just as I was about to push off, even through my music, I heard someone calling my name. “Who the fuck is it now?!” I hissed, ripping out my earbuds to only hear that lilting Spanish accent. Oh hell no, no fucking way is that guy seriously- I stumbled around in my thoughts before I gave a firm push on the ground, determined to not sink as low to fall in- to like a guy after meeting him ten minutes ago. As I powered up the hill, I couldn’t help but look over my shoulder at the top, parts of me wanting him to be there yet the others were screaming at me to continue cycling. I felt my body sag when I saw he wasn’t there, my eyes feeling tired all of a sudden. I sighed and continued pedalling up to the house that I could only call home.

As soon as I shoved open the door, there was a race of footsteps, ending in me being tackled by an overexcited Feliciano. “I was only gone for one fucking hour!” I yelped as he babbled about how much he missed me and exactly what he had done while I was out. “Lovino, language,” Nonno scolded, a frown filling out the deeper lines of the seventy year old. I rolled my eyes and simply began the long trudge up the stairs with Feliciano clinging to my waist. Suddenly, around halfway up the stairs, Feliciano let go and stood upright with a sparkle in his eyes. Before he could even open his mouth, I interjected at the expected comment. “Yes, we are having pasta for dinner, Feli, like every Friday,” I ground out, shrugging my backpack off as I pushed open the door to my bedroom. He squeaked and rushed up the stairs, a grin on his features, “Si, fratello! And Nonno’s cooking this time!” He chirped, flinging himself into my room uninvited.

I was actually taken aback; it was certainly not fucking normal for him to do that. “What the hell did he do?” I asked him, unpacking my bag of snacks that could be eaten later. “Oh, nothing, he’s actually inviting our new neighbours over, if I remember correctly,” He sang, irritation passing over my features. “Goddamnit, not more bastards to entertain,” I groaned, flopping down onto my bed, only to be squished when fucking Feliciano decided it was a fantastic idea to use my body as a pillow. “C-chigi, g…get your fat a-ass off me!” I gasped, failing to move my brother. To my utter annoyance, he had fallen asleep in a matter of seconds, snoring softly into my cotton shirt. Sadly, he was ridiculously cute when he slept, and even my own resolve crumbled when I thought of waking up my little brother. So instead, I decided to try sleeping myself, finding that my eyes slipped shut easily and darkness consumed me.

 

I woke up when the commotion downstairs stirred even Feliciano, which was a miracle in itself. “Get off me… asshole,” I sleepily commanded, rolling him off onto the floor. But before I could properly move away, Feliciano’s near unbreakable grip pulled me onto the floor as well, and even if I landed on top of him -serves that fat ass right, if you ask me- I still felt anger boiling in my blood. I growled low and dangerous as Feliciano yelped and continue babbling apologies, fake tears welling up in his eyes. “Jesus, stop Feli, your giving me a damn headache,” I hissed, his way too high pitched voice halting as I stood, intending to give the assholes who disrupted my sleep a piece of my mind.

I stormed downstairs with Feliciano hot on my heels, his eyes dry and smile wide. I nearly wanted to break down the door, but instead opened it like a civil person, considering Nonno would possibly murder me if I acted so brashly. “Oi! Why’d you have to fuc-“I wasn’t sure if I was embarrassed because I had shouted in front of a pretty lady, or because the tomato bastard –who I’d met less than three hours ago- was staring at both of us with increased interest, his grin widening. For the second time today, my mind registered that my cheeks had gone up in flames and it was likely that I would faint soon by the sudden rush of blood to my face. I closed my mouth as Nonno chuckled at my antics, the sound of blood in my ears washing away the words that left his mouth, my guess that he was introducing us. Luckily, Feliciano bounced past me to go meet the new people, successfully taking the attention from my stupid outburst. Yet, I felt a slight pain in my chest as -once again- Feliciano was fucking cooed over and commented on, while I was entirely ignored. But that wasn’t the worst. The worst was that I noticed how Antonio’s eyes lit up when he talked to Feliciano, my suspicions clarified as his laugh echoed in the space, the room seeming more lively as he seemed to prefer the company of my little brother than me- not that I blamed him. I sighed and stopped leaning on the doorframe and instead decided that I could wash away all my shitty problems with chocolate and dancing, going straight to our stairwell with tears pricking my eyes.

In a fit of grief, I locked myself in the bathroom and let tears slide down my cheeks, my passive façade only leaking out some emotion. I was a fucking idiot to even think that I’d have a chance over Feliciano,I thought, looking through my bathroom window to stare at the stars for a few minutes, as if a shooting star could wish all my strives away. I rubbed at my eyes and cheeks vigorously before standing and slowly unlocking the bathroom door to sneak back into my less than safe place. I pulled out all my chocolates from my bag and lay them out on my bed, deciding to pick Cadbury’s Oreo chocolate as it was the most fucking delicious thing I’d tasted in so long, besides Lint that is. I bit into the large bar, not caring if I ruined my appetite for dinner, and glared out into the estate. My features softened as I saw two kids playing around with glow sticks in their garden, eyes filled with delight and wonder, reminding me of my own childhood. After staring at the kids and steadily burning a hole through my sugar storage, having eaten more than half of a packet of toffees, one bar of top deck and most of the Oreo bar, I finally managed to ease the self-torture I tended to put myself through.

That was until the insufferable giggling of Feliciano had to fucking invade my sense of peace.

“Fratello, dinner!” He called into the room, thanking myself for not turning on any lights. “I’m not hungry,” I mumbled, scrambling for the mountain of wrappers and quickly moving them from the inevitable. Feliciano jumped onto the middle of my bed as his eyes gleamed in the moonlight filtering through the window. “What’s wrong?” He asked, poking my leg, his genuine concern beginning to hurt. “Nothing’s fucking wrong,” I hissed, my temper too strained by my sadness. He gave me a very select look at he wiped at the corner of my mouth, his eyes rolling, “You’ve been binge eating, fratello, you only do that when you’re upset,” He deadpanned, my cheeks igniting as I wiped at the access chocolate around my lips. “Shit, fine, I’m not exactly ecstatic, but it’s something you can’t change,” I growled, “I’ll come down for fucking dinner, but don’t expect me to eat much.”

He sighed heavily and nodded, knowing that he wouldn’t get more out of me, “See you downstairs…” He murmured, nuzzling my shoulder before he left. I groaned and moved to the bathroom, fixing my hair and splashing my face, hoping that I wouldn’t have to socialize too much.

If you were to walk into our house, you would notice that our kitchen connected to the lounge, therefore the most likely place for any of the Vargas family to be in was the kitchen, as such we all called it the heart of the home. And tonight it seemed like it truly was beating with all the laughter and loud chatter vibrating off the walls. I winced at the sheer volume, the last fleeting pieces of peace shattering. I rolled my eyes and braced myself before opening the door, noticing how everyone’s eyes turned to look at the newcomer. What the fuck is with these people and staring?I asked myself, wishing I had ignored Feliciano and gone straight to bed.

The three new Spaniards –judging by their thick accents- practically screamed sunshine and fucking rainbows with their wide smiles and sparkling eyes. The pretty lady I’d screamed in front of was a near replica of the tomato bastard, with gems for eyes and the softest looking hair I’d seen in my life. However, he also had the sharp ass jaw and dark olive toned skin from his dad, who was currently eyeing me with curiosity. “Ah! Lovino, finally you’re joined us,” Nonno exclaimed, his own pearly-white grin only serving to deepen my frown. “Only because Feli said there was food,” I remarked, grabbing a bowl and dishing up a far smaller portion than I usually would eat, already feeling slightly ill from the thought of having to eat such rich food. He exhaled almost as heavily as Feliciano as I sat across from the tomato bastard with Nonno and Feliciano on my sides, the heads of the table occupied by the two adult men of the family. Soon, the conversation picked up again, leaving me to pick at the dish on my plate.

“So, Antonio, where are you going to school?” Feliciano asked, his leg bouncing up and down from excitement, which only got on my nerves. “I’m going to Hetalia High,” He replied. “Bullsh-“I censored myself at Nonno’s warning glance, my frown deepening as I watched the tomato bastard. “I-I mean, you look so much damn o-older, you’ve got to be in Matric,” I pressed, managing to keep my blush at bay. He chuckled at my question, his eyes somehow becoming even brighter. “Me? Matric? No, I’m in grade 10,” He proclaimed, resting his head on palm as he watched my stunned expression. You’re kidding… he can’t seriously be in my grade,I wondered, shutting up in favour of angrily stabbing at my gnocchi, as if it was responsible for causing this shitty scenario. I was in the same damn grade as the tomato bastard, the person who was both muscled as fuck and lives right across the street. Is this my punishment for throwing tomatoes at Mrs. Kirkland’s cat? Because then karma really is a bitch. And now, Feliciano just had to bring me back into the conversation when I thought I was free. “Fratello is in grade 10 too!” He beamed, nudging my arm as I brooded at the table. I glared at Feliciano, his grin only growing wider. “What subjects are you taking?” I asked, popping another mouthful of the delicious pasta in my mouth. “Hmm, besides English and Maths, I’m taking Spanish, Science, Music and History,” the tomato bastard smiled, only serving to make me roll my eyes.

Feliciano gasped and grinned at me, “Lovi is also doing History,” He exclaimed from his fucking huge ass mouth. I kicked his shin under the table, causing him to immediately whine right into my ear. “Ow, ow, that hurt fratello!” He wailed, my face slowly going red from my anger near spilling over, a few couple choice words at the ready, until a certain bastard had to interfere. “Whoa, Lovi, your face looks like a tomato!” He giggled, causing my face to flame up for different reasons. “No it doe- who gave you permission to fu-flipping call me that!” I growled, promptly standing up and scraping the chair on the wood, hands on the table. Feliciano quickly came to a misunderstanding and started trying to calm me down; bitching about something I did years ago. I groaned as I felt a headache coming on, choosing the wise option of grabbing my bowl and excusing myself from the table, not at all interested in the adult’s conversation. “Aren’t you going to have tiramisu, Lovi?” Feli questioned, catching my wrist before I could leave. I stole a glance at the tomato bastard before shaking my head, “I told you Feli, I’m only staying for dinner,” I sighed, yanking from his grip and moving upstairs. I wasn’t fast enough however, to ignore a very soft comment, “Honestly, I think that Lovi makes it better, but he stopped baking a while ago…”


	2. Here Comes the Sun, do do do

The sunlight near blinded me as I tried to snuggle further under the blankets, irritation quickly mounting. What the fuck sun, you asshole,I thought as I reluctantly removed myself from the bedsheets, practically rolling out the bed in a flurry of bed hair and heavy limbs. Fuck mornings, the only really good thing about them would be coffee, and even that isn’t a really good excuse. I growled as I tried to close the blinds, pausing to look outside. I frowned as I noticed the tomato bastard, who seemed to be- Oh hell no. He was chatting away to fuckface Francis, who was probably corrupting him as I watched. I snorted and narrowed my eyes, rapidly closing the gaps to the outside world with nimble fingers, hoping to burn the image of the asshole who couldn’t keep his hands to himself. As I climbed back into my nest, it became apparent that fuckface’s face would not leave me alone, considering that whenever I closed my eyes all I could picture was his ugly ass face. I guess I’ll have to abandon the idea of having pleasant dreams, not with that bastard’s face on my mind.

I once again clambered out of bed – gracefully as fuck, of course. I yawned and dragged myself down the stairs, too tired to fix my fuzzy hair or to change out of my boxers and t-shirt. I groaned as I saw the clock, rubbing my temples to ease the headache. 8:30, the oven blinked, pissing me off to no end. “You’ve got to be shitting me,” I growled, putting on my usual dose of coffee. I knew that not even Nonno would be up, whereas Feliciano would probably sleep till eleven or twelve usually. I sipped the scolding hot black coffee, grabbing some ice-cubes from the freezer in an attempt to stop the inevitable burning my mouth. I stood at the window and watched the passer-by’s, resting my head on my palm. I snorted as I watched Alfred pester poor Arthur, one of my f-friends. My circle of fuck-ups consisted of Arthur, Matthew, Feliks, Toris and Bella, who for some odd reason didn’t mind my constant swearing and irate personality. Maybe it was because some of them had seen me in dancing classes. Well, it was really the only guess I had -except for Arthur and Matthew, as they also had to deal with painfully loved brothers- as I honestly had no clue why someone would find my company good, except for my looks, because damn, I lost count with how many Valentines I’d gotten over the years.

I smirked as Arthur’s face grew more and more irritated, amusing both me and Alfred to no end. I abandoned my daily dose of watching my shitty Soapie of a life for left over Tiramisu, picking out how Feliciano had, once again, made the sponge way too dry. After feeding my growing hunger, I went upstairs to switch to better clothing, preferably tight jeans and loose shirt paired with red flannel. I glanced at myself in the mirror, nodding in approval as to what these lovely jeans did to my ass. I slung my bag over my shoulder, planning a family free day. I pasted a note on Feliciano’s door and walked down to the garage, pulling out my bike and pushing out, enjoying the cool morning air. I waved at Arthur who gave me a despairing glance, while Alfred waved wildly just before they were gone around the corner. My eyes scouted the various people, cringing when Mrs. Kirkland glared at me and Wolfgang rolled his eyes as I passed. It was like everyone here either had a stick up their ass, little to no self-control or was just plain weird.

I turned the familiar corner and pulled up to the swimming pool that met at the corner of Fritz and Michelangelo Street, following the usual procedure. Tie up the bike, pull out white card, avoid eye contact and Francis, sit in my spot, be greeted by Antoni- wait what? My head snapped back to the tomato bastard who was currently tilting his head ever-so slightly, his eyes sparkling. “Hey, Lovi, can I put my stuff-“Oh, I was so ready this time. “No,” I deadpanned, amused by his surprised expression. That was until he started pouting. I blushed furiously as he b-batted his eyelashes and whimpered ever slightly, whispering “Oh… okay,” as if someone had stolen his fucking tomatoes or his favourite ice-cream flavour was out. I mentally kicked myself for being unable to resist puppy dog faces; no matter how many times Feliciano had used it on me. “Fine, asshole,” I groaned, rolling my eyes as I returned to scrabbling through my bag to find my iPod. I swear it was like someone turned the fucking sun on inside when he gasped and dumped everything next to me once again with a joyful “Thanks!”

I gently pushed in the earbuds and turned on my music, glancing up and down from my sketch book. I eventually started getting bored of the multiple bodies appearing in my page along with detailed and bright and gorgeous… No! Just detailed ass eyes that I had partially coloured vibrant green. As I continued to frown and argue with my traitorous thoughts, I failed to notice that I was staring blatantly at Antonio, my eyes rather hazy as I also didn’t notice the obnoxious air quickly approaching. “What are you looking at mon ami?” Francis purred, slipping into the seat that wasn’t occupied by the pile of red crap. I let out a gir- _manly_ ass yelp as the pervert grinned knowingly at me. “N-nothing!” I stuttered, gripping the arms of the chair as I tried to pull away from fuckface. He laughed in that spaz way that could only be described as the call of molestation with that cheesy accent of his. “Dear Antonie does have the ass of a god, no?” He proclaimed, sliding an arm around my shoulders and gesturing to shit all, my cheeks glowing from embarrassment. “W-who the fuck are y-you talking about?” I lied, feeling more than uncomfortable as I tried to squirm out of his grip, his piercing blue eyes darting to my unclosed sketchbook, the shit eating grin growing wider. “Ohoh, look at this,” He smirked and looked me directly in the eyes, his arm sliding lower than I’d like, “Seems, you know _exactly_ who I’m talking about,” He observed, pointing to one of my own comments that read ‘Note to self: get Feli to do a better sketch of this guy’s ass.’ Out of pure instinct, I head-butted Francis and grabbed my sketchbook from his stunned hands, my blush stretching down to my chest as I screeched “C-Chigi!” Before grabbing my bag and making a fast paced getaway from the frenchfuck.

I was near lucky, before the most infamous teen in the entire damn town slammed into me when I was glancing behind to make sure that Frenchfuck wasn’t trying to get in my pants. I let out another embarrassing sound as I landed on my ass, my temper rising as I felt my jeans grow wet from the puddles around the pool’s edge. “Hey, it’s itty bitty Lovino Vargas!” Gilbert laughed, crossing his arms over the shirt that read ‘I’m made from awesomesauce’ which screamed “Large ego.” I growled and stood, dusting off my pants and wishing my blush would tone down. “Hey look, it’s douchebag McGee,” I shot back, the lapse in his smirk serving to only make the corner of my lips turn up. He glared down at me for a second or two before that infuriating grin returned as he watched something behind me.

“Did you really think you’d get away that easily from moi?” Francis chirped, a squeak breaking my self-confidence as his hand sneakily pinched my ass, only adding to the self-proclaimed ‘Prussian’s’ snickering. I was tempted to trip him as he passed me to stand beside Gilbert, but my mind popping out disturbing images of cracked skulls and fatal injuries stopped a possibly horrific decision, settling for a death glare. I snorted at the two teens that happened to tower over me, their eyes reflecting mischief and promised deviousness, an unheard message passing between them. “So Lovino, care to explain how you became absolutely smitten with Antonie’s ass?” Francis smiled, his eyes twinkling as gestured to the male who was meant to be in the pool. Sadly, said man was walking up behind the two bastards, his usual smile still competing with the sun. “Oh, Lovi, I see you’ve met Gilbert and Francis!” He grinned, slinging two wet and tanned arms around the notorious duo. “Ah, Toni, we were just talking about you!” Gilbert exclaimed, eyes gleaming at the clueless Spaniard. I felt the tips of my ears heat up at fuckface’s wink, opening his mouth in preparation to further ruin my reputation. “Great, now I can leave you fucktards to chat about Antonio’s ass, ciao,” I smoothly spat out, pushing past the three idiots, nearly stopping to laugh at their stunned and somewhat horrified expressions. I strolled out with a smug look on my face, amused by the two asshole’s collective shouting of denial in the background.

I was about to go for my bike, when a rather high-pitched screech of “Lovi!” caught my attention immediately. “Bella,” I exclaimed just before the Belgian practically tackled me, her blonde hair suffocating me, along with her tight hug. “C-can’t b… breath,” I stuttered, her hug relaxing as she pulled away to look me properly in the eyes. “Oh my gosh, how has your holiday been so far?” She asked, eyes twinkling. I grinned and sighed, ruffling my hair, “It’s been rather fucking weird to say the least,” I laughed, scrunching my nose as she gently booped me. “So, have you gotten any?” She slyly hinted, nudging my arm with a wink and playful smirk. I blushed full force, my ears turning bright red. “W-what?! No, of course not!” I exclaimed, blinking rapidly as she grinned wider. “Remember, you promised me you’d come to me first if anything happens, and not to Liz,” She stated, waving her hand about. I frowned before chuckling softly, pulling lightly on the back of my hair, “I remember very clearly Bella, you locked me in a closet and said ‘I had to come out of the closet’ to get out of the closet, because you were determined to win that bet,” I said, poking her shoulder as she snickered. “It took you an hour of convincing and a promise of pizza to get you to confess,” She giggled, punching me back. I bit back a laugh and shook my head, eyes sparkling with memories and amusement.

I paused in our conversation as I saw three bastards practically trip out the Pool, my frown growing deeper. “Sorry, Bel, but I have to go,” I growled, sending a fleeting smile and wave to my best friend before I sprinted to my bike, determined to leave without being assaulted by Francis, berated by Gilbert and c-cooed over by Antonio. I caught the bizarre look Bella gave me as she glanced between the group and me, some sort of understanding flickering in her eyes. Only some because this fucking terrifying grin that would make Ivan shiver passes over her expression. I watched in horror as she turned to the trio of idiots who are still arguing and laughing about fuck all, nearly stumbling past her until fuckface sees her. I groaned as she started up a conversation, no doubt about me. But what catches me off guard is the side glances Antonio keeps aiming at me -and thank every fucking deity in existence for putting pants and a shirt on that bastard. I felt my heart f-flutter as I dared to turn away from those sparkling stones- no stars, hastily making an escape for my bike, forcing down my gay ass poetry to be saved for my journal or something.

I was practically tripping over my bike in a haste to jump on, desperate to avoid the assholes that were quickly catching onto the distraction. I made my grand escape in less than two minutes, heading down to the park to get some alone time and possibly shut eye if I was lucky. I sighed into the wind, lazily turning into the corners and skidding to a halt in front of the relatively bare playground, my eyes scanning the overly emerald grass and deep scented pine needles blemishing the pristine ground. I pulled my bike along with me and lay it down next to one of my favourite rides- a brightly painted metal carousel.

I smiled fondly at the memories of playing on these things, pushing the bars to make it spin with Feli sitting in the middle, screeching his lungs out. I was always for doing something showier, like jumping on in the split second intervals or hanging upside down. I gently grazed my fingers over the yellow bands before giving a hard shove, watching the colours blur. Feliciano didn’t like them as much as me because he didn’t have the stomach for them, but unlike most kids, I preferred these things over anything else in the playground. I idly pushed the toy, my eyes and mind already timing the jump perfectly. I leapt forward and tumbled onto the spinning platform. The motion caused my stomach to leap into my chest, my mouth uttering traitorous giggles at the ticklish feeling, the world turning into a blur. However, amongst the green I noticed a mottled object moving closer with every turn, my laughter dying down as the wheel came to an agonizingly slow halt.

And I certainly –defiantly- did not have that fluttery feeling –lovely feeling- from staring back into the sparkling depths that no amount of water and sunlight added to the rolling green hills of Italy could rival. I looked him up and down from where I sat, eyes wide as the tomato bastard’s grin grew while he reached into his back pocket and pulled out my iPod. ”You left it at the pool…” He sheepishly stated, holding it out as if I would bite off his fucking hand or something. I once again felt the blood rush to my face, cursing my shitty memory and crappy Frenchmen before I snatched the iPod from his hands, scowling. “Well it’s fucking Francis’ fault for distracting me! Besides, you would have probably stolen it if I wasn’t with my shit,” I remarked, sticking my nose in the air as he spluttered. “W-what?!” He exclaimed, scratching the back of his head, “I-I’ve never stolen anything in my lif- okay, so maybe that’s a lie, but still, I don’t steal!” He cried, hands on hips as he defended himself. I snorted and shook my head, crossing my arms over my chest, “Still don’t believe you.” Antonio sighed and threw his hands up in defeat, plopping down on another coloured fifth, the yellow bars obscuring my vision of his face.

I wanted to close my eyes, but I was damn nervous the asshole would try make off with my precious bag, considering he had shown so much interest in it. Well, we can always improvise with swearing and chasing the guy off. “You’ve done your shit, so leave,” I growled, glaring at the bastard’s back. He had the audacity to look surprised, his head craned at an awkward angle to look at me with his eyebrows raised. “This is a free country,” He noted, lying back on the most probably uncomfortable metal. I groaned and rolled my eyes, pulling my legs closer to my chest, enjoying the warmth of the sun. “That’s a really stupid comeback,” I sneered, failing to ignore his laughter. “But I’m so comfy!” He whined, rolling over to watch me, my eyes darting over to catch his stare every once in a while. We settled for an easy atmosphere, the sun beginning it’s decent from its peak, setting Antonio’s eyes alight. Not like they weren’t lively before. Eventually the peace was interrupted by the bastard’s sudden gasp, his eyes growing impossibly brighter. “How about we push each other on this thing?” He asked, poking my leg as he wiggled his eyebrows, my lips struggling to keep frowning. I opened my mouth to argue, and Antonio clearly saw this, but once again he went ahead of my decision. The next thing I knew my head was swirling and the hues in front of me had blended near perfectly, except for the occasional blur of a red shirt and blue jeans. I scrambled to stand, nearly falling over in my haste. I couldn’t help but laugh, not used to this tingling sensation in my stomach and heart. “Y-You bastard!” I scoffed, the flame smothered by the giggles and the bright blush staining my cheeks, my voice chopped from the spinning.

I managed to regain my senses as the wheel slowed down, the electric shocks passing in my body having faded to pins and needles, my knees shaking from the dizziness. I let out a hard puff of breath before I fell back on my ass, head spinning as my legs decided to tap out. “You… could have… fucking warned me, asshole,” I breathed, closing my eyes as I tried to gain my orientation. I heard chuckling and shuffling of dirt, already knowing the bastard was probably providing sunshine from his c-crappy grin. I made my second attempt of standing after opening my eyes, swaying off the ride as I continued to crab walk straight into Antonio. He smiled and caught me, my mind recovering from being scrambled. I hastily batted away his hands, blushing furiously as I slapped him, eyes narrowed. “Geez, you really know how to slap a person, huh?” He noted, blinking down at my scowling expression as he rubbed the red patch on his cheek. I opened my mouth for a comeback, but found myself tired of this conversation, settling for a glare and eye roll.

“You are such a bastard,” I huffed, looking away from him to brood, thoroughly annoyed. He once again just beamed and poked me, gesturing to the carousel, “Come on, it’s my turn!” He exclaimed, hopping on with a great amount of enthusiasm. “And what makes you think I’ll do something I haven’t fucking agreed on?” I snapped, making the fatal mistake of glancing at the asshole. My resolve buckled immediately at the glassy eyes and exaggerated bottom lip, those amazingly vibrant eyes stunning my mind. He had clearly figured out my ultimate weakness. The pout. I blinked rapidly and started stuttering incoherent sentences -that were mostly cussing- with wild gestures, stepping closer to the bars with flaming cheeks and a deep scowl. I huffed at his overjoyed expression and gave a hefty shove from one bar to the next, deciding to grab one and run in favour of murdering my arms. My heart nearly stopped when Antonio laughed -bright and pure- into the brink of dusk, Venus shining brightly in the sky somewhere. I hardly felt the soft smile on my lips.

After pushing around the larger guy for ten minutes, I ended up collapsing back on my favorite colored fifth from exhaustion, sleep knocking inside my head. “Why are you so goddamn heavy,” I whined, propping myself up against the centre of the carousel. “It’s my muscles,” He chimed, leaning over the bar he had his arms propped on top of to tower over me. I smirked and threaded my hands through my chestnut hair, wondering if I really had to go back to the insanity that was my family. With a defeated growl, I slowly stood and dusted off my jeans, strolling over to my bag that still lay exactly where I put it. Out of curiosity I plucked my phone from the main pocket. And as expected I had a bunch of missed calls from Feliciano and Nonno. “God-fucking-damnit,” I hissed, throwing my bag over my shoulder.

“Ciao, bastard,” I sneered, not casting another glance behind me in case Antonio somehow persuaded me to stay. “Wait!” was the only warning I got before I was spun around, my infamous blush rearing its ugly shade. “Meet me here… tomorrow? 3 O’ clock?” He spluttered, my eyes too preoccupied with his gaze to notice the light dust over his cheekbones. “M-maybe, we’ll see asshole,” I managed to force out before picking up my treasured bike and running from the guy who had possibly –defiantly- stolen my heart. And I kinda wanted that shit back to make sure nothing happened to it… again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> weee, another chapter for you lovelies.  
> Note that my production lines are going to be cut as real life is cutting in on Monday and I make my glorious return to school and anxiety. Also I'm going to put my other fic on hiatus until I've gotten a bit further in this, so hopefully this one will be up to par for you guys. Anywho, cheers and have a great one!


	3. You spin my head right round, when you go down

The next day started out way better than the previous. I managed to sleep till after ten for once without being woken by noisy birds or the sun being the bitch it is. I got out of bed at a sloth-like pace, letting my stiff limbs pop and crackle from the ordeal yesterday, eyes narrowed in the thin slivers of sunlight escaping past the blinds. I snorted and yawned, practically dragging myself to my dresser, the sheet still partially clinging to my foot. I was about to pick out a stylish outfit that would entail sass and as many band names as possible, when Nonno once again burst into my room uninvited, entirely ruining the sedated state I’d been enjoying.“Morning Lovi~” He cooed, fluffing up my bed hair into something more of a fucking bird’s nest.

“What the fuck, why are you-?”

“Did you forget again?”

“Forget what?”

“Lovino, it’s a Monday,”

“…Oh shit!”

I scrambled for my cabinet, effectively turning my once neat line of clothing into a wardrobe that had been hit by a hurricane. I finally pulled out the black leggings and tank top, grabbing my hot pants for… well; I’d rather not dwell on it. Nonno watched in mild amusement as I scurried around the room, getting ready in less than five minutes, my hair still a shit storm. He smiled good-naturedly and smoothed down my hair except for the one damn piece of hair that never budged. “You sure you have everything?” He asked as he followed my hurried footsteps downstairs. “Yes I’m fucking sure!” I yelled, grabbing a 750ml bottle of water from the fridge with my bag haphazardly swinging from my hip as I rushed into the car, Nonno following idly. I felt my leg gig up and down in excitement and nerves, eyes dancing with unsaid words as the car started with a satisfying growl.

The drive was short but nerve racking. I stumbled out the car in a rush, Nonno’s laughter causing my butterflies to violently flip my stomach, his shout of goodbye barely making it past my numbed senses. It was a short sprint across the road to one of my happier places. I burst into the chatter filled space, all eyes snapping to see the regular. “Ah! Lovino, you made it!” Carlos laughed, clapping me on the back. I stiffened awkwardly and shuffled over to my groupies, Feliks, Toris and Bella. They all gave me different smiles as I neared, suddenly very aware of how damn tight the leggings were. Feliks had this overly cheery smirk and Toris had a soft grin. Bella simply gave me one of these fucking playful and cheeky smiles that oozed of gossip and subtle hints I didn’t want. I glared at them before Carlos called the class to attention, my concentration immediately focused. As usual, we did stretches, my body stiff from all the pushing and running I’d done yesterday. After a quick warm up, he ordered all of us to pair up, Bella finding my eyes as usual.

However, fate wanted something else.

We all jumped slightly as all of the students –me included- stared at the new comer who had just slammed open the door. I visibly flinched as the Spanish accent filled the room. "Lo siento, we were stuck in traffic,” Antonio apologized to Carlos, the Cuban’s eyes filled with a kind understanding that everyone had experienced once. “No problem, now everyone, I’d like you all to meet the new student, Antonio!” He announced, a light blush dusting over the tomato bastard’s cheeks coupled with a blinding grin that I turned away from as he greeted some of the others. Just as I went to Bella, I felt a tap on my shoulder, a defeated sigh escaping as I turned to look Carlos in the eyes. “Lovino, I know you’d like to dance with Bella, but just for today could you partner with Antonio?” He asked, a plead evident in the back of his voice, “You know the ropes better than anyone else here.” I scowled as I ran past the possibilities in my head, irritation coming off in waves. I glanced at the Spaniard, eyes dull except for a spark of interest. “Shit, okay, why the fuck not -but only for today,” I ground out, his body relaxing as the tension disappeared from his shoulders, ignoring the few ‘thank you’s he handed out. I irritably made my way through the throng of people to stand in front of the taller asshole, everyone either looking mildly surprised or defeated. “Oh, hello Lovi! I didn’t-““Shut up bastard, you’re paired with me, let’s go” I hissed over his greeting, eyes narrowed as I felt the unattractive blush appear on my cheeks. He followed me without complaint, some of the girls sending envious glares in my direction that I easily shot down with a death stare of my own, the tomato bastard remaining oblivious as he continued to ramble on about something.

I led him to a spot that was open and made it easy for the beginners to see Carlos’ demonstration of today’s routine. I easily followed, considering we had been practicing for a while, but I was kind of impressed by how Antonio managed to keep up with the moves- just not as gracefully. Then, in the last ten minutes of the class, my favourite part rolled along. “Alright class, now it is time for our improvising section!” Carlos called out, his eyes gleaming with excitement. An unwanted grin exploded onto my expression when Carlos said that the song would be “Bad Romance,” as it always went down well, Bella shooting me a sly glance and wink. I smirked back as I shuffled my feet in anticipation, noticing how my partner’s eyes lit up even brighter. He listed off the order of pairs, starting with Feliks and Toris and ending with Antonio and I.

We all lined the walls and watched; the first notes setting my pulse alight, my foot tapping out the familiar beat. I grew more and more anxious as the song continued, eyes flicking from the pair inside to Antonio and back again to the swirling couple. “I’m a free bitch, baby,” gave our cue, and I took the first steps into an oblivion I could never come back from. Antonio’s eyes burnt fiery as I sang along, our feet sliding into a tango as the bastard took the lead. I dared to even lean into his grip, a twinkle in his eye all the warning I got before he spun me, my feet melding into the unexpected motion. I felt my breath catch as I simply let him fucking control me, my vision swirling as he kept snapping me out of his arms and back again, my back finally resting against his chest. I near gasped as it became something a bit more dirty, all hips and subtle brushes of hands that strayed a bit too far. Sadly, it was on both of our parts. I bit back sighs and smiles and instead moved away from his arms, a shimmy of the shoulders and a teasing glance of a lover matched the song near perfectly as Antonio dared to move closer again. I slipped in and out of his arms, clearly depicting who was who in the relationship, a slyly placed breath on my neck and cheek here and there as a ghosting pair of lips refused to leave my skin. I only fully gave in as the last “Roma-ma-ma” silenced the room, Antonio’s hands on my hips while our mouths were mere centimetres apart, eyes hazy and breath shallow. It took a few seconds for it all to register.

My eyes widened and I pulled away, cheeks igniting from both embarrassment and heat, leaving Antonio to stand alone, dazed and rather flushed. The cheers came after the stunned silence was lifted, goose-bumps peppering my skin as I noticed how cold it was not having Antonio pressed to my back. Bella was ecstatic as she hopped over; eyes alight with mischief and mirth. “I haven’t seen you dance like that in ages!” She exclaimed, grabbing my shoulders and shaking furiously, further sending my mind into a stupor. “Like, that was totally fan-fucking-tastic, as you would say,” Feliks added, dragging a blushing Toris along with him. “A-ah, t-thank you?” I said posing it more as a question, because everything was spinning too fucking much and my heart felt like it was going to burst inside my chest. That… was not what I expected. At all. I failed to get my breathing under control, feeling the stares drilling into my back as Carlos ended the lesson, my hands shaking.

I nearly leapt into the ceiling when a hand clapped onto my shoulder, a loud screech ripping out my throat. "Lo siento Lovi, I-I just wanted to say that you are one of the most amazing dance partners I’ve had in years!” The tomato bastard exclaimed, my cheeks burning with embarrassment from the compliment and rather obscure sound that I’d made. “You were o-okay,” I lied, unwilling to give him a decent amount of praise as I crossed my arms, still not turning to face the idiota. He let out a slightly insulted sound mixed with laughter that had my chest twisting uncomfortably. I pivoted on my heel to examine Antonio, his vibrant eyes burning with something other than amusement. “Am I going to see you at the park today?” He asked, as if waiting for me to stroll out the dance studio with him as the last members walked out. “Probably not,” I replied, having a genuine excuse.

And I was rather relieved and nervous when my excuse happened to walk right in. “Liz, finally!” I yelled, tossing my hands in the air as the Hungarian shot me a interested look, eyes travelling up and down Antonio’s body, straying on his ass a bit too long for anyone’s comfort. “Ah, Lovino, it’s great to see you!” She grinned, sliding over to my side and holding out her hand to the asshole. “You must be new, I would have noticed if such a fine specimen was walking in a five mile radius,” She said, knowing she wasn’t fucking teasing at all. Antonio seemed to take it as a joke, because he laughed and grasped her hand and shook, a bit nervously all the same. “Name’s Antonio Fernández Carriedo,” He sang, eyes sparkling. “Mine’s Elizabeta Edelstein,” She laughed, surprising Antonio by nearly tearing off his arm with her firm shake. I sighed and rolled my eyes, rooting through my tiny bag and pulling out the hot pants. “I’m going to go change, and he better be gone when I’m back,” I growled, pointing at Antonio before heading off to the change rooms, ignoring Elizabeta’s odd glances.

I stared back at my reflection in the mirror trying to sedate my bright cheeks and smooth down my hair slightly. I glared at the one curl on my head before slipping off my leggings and into the clinging material of my shorts – more like underwear if you ask me. I once again blushed at how exposed I was with the loose tank top and itty-bitty pants that clung way too much to my ass for my taste, both of them jet black with hints of luminescent colours. I stuffed my pants back into my bag and shoved open the door, stopping behind a wall before sneaking a peak from my hiding spot. I hissed under my breath when I saw that the bastard hadn’t budged and was still having a good old chat with Liz. I was about to sneak back into the bathroom but Liz’s sharp eyes did not blindly ignore the red bag flashing against cream. She smiled devilishly as she strolled over and grabbed my shoulder, pulling me towards the ball of sunshine, failing to break her grip and ignore the undeniable brightening of my cheeks. I tried my best to cover up with my bag, but clearly Liz was having none of that. She grabbed the tog bag and yanked, my death stare more of a pout under her pure hell of a glare, her tugging and pulling somehow ending with my bag tossed somewhere on the other side of the room, leaving me entirely exposed.

“Don’t stare!” I screeched, watching Antonio’s eyes grow wide at the clean shaven legs and gently tanned skin of my thighs. His eyes snapped up to meet mine, eyes sparkling with something I couldn't make out. “A-ah, I'll be going t-then,” He stumbled, turning swiftly before walking out in rather stiff movements, leaving me with a perverted Hungarian. “So, how about we get started!” She exclaimed, stunning me from my thoughts. “S-sure,” I replied, making my way to the pole on the other side of the room, glancing back at my reflection in the mirror and wondering why the fuck I was still doing this.

When I arrived home, the first thing that hit me was how tired I was. Elizabeta had pushed me today, the red marks along my thighs proof of my torture I enjoyed so much -Don't you dare think of it weirdly you perverts. Sometimes the inner slut just had to be satisfied. However, as I stepped into the shower, Nonno called from downstairs, the growl hissing from my throat coming out feral. I angrily grabbed a maroon towel and wrapped myself with a yell of “Coming!” As I stormed down, ignoring Feliciano’s sniggering when I passed him.

“This better be fucki- oh my fucking god,” Not even having Antonio seeing me in those shorts could top the moment that the bastard’s head snapped to the voice and caught the red towel and lack of clothing, Nonno’s shit eating grin and giggling pissing me off further. “Toni here was wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner,” He explained, hooking a arm around Antonio’s shoulders, the smile he wore becoming a little less assuring and more fucking terrifying. I blushed so hard that I felt the splotches making their way down to my chest, clutching the fluffy red fabric between my fingers. “U-um, well, I'm j-just kinda tired and- ah,” I couldn't form proper sentences with his intense gaze raking up and down my frame, the stutter coming out in a far higher pitch. He shook his head and averted his eyes, smiling softly. “It's perfectly fine, I also wanted to thank you for partnering with me today…” He said, speaking as if he would startle me away. I stiffened and scowled, pulling the towel higher. “Don't get used to it,” I hissed, biting my lip and turning away from the idiota, “I’m going to go shower now, so don't wait around too long,” I sneered, thundering up the stairs before Nonno possibly started strangling Antonio.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, I've been super busy! Hopefully the smaller parts I've planned are going to run smoother than this chapter and I'll be able to get it out sooner.


	4. I Wish that I Could Say What's on my Mind

It was a miracle that I'd managed to avoid the tomato bastard for around four days. Sure, I wouldn't really call it avoiding, but it clearly did the trick. To be honest, it was more like running off in any random direction if I heard something that was even vaguely sounded or looked similar to Antonio. I had even dove into a holly bush the other day, thankfully avoiding another awkward conversation or lovel- terrible feelings in my stomach when I heard that stupid laugh outside of my prickly safe haven-prison… Okay, so the last thing still happened, but I would take unheard stomach bugs over awkward talks about the embarrassing moments that were bound to be questioned.

Like every other day, I rolled out of bed, changed and had to deal with my insufferable family, planning the new extensive route that was tomato bastard-less. Feliciano was brighter than the fucking sun and Nonno simply couldn't stop suggesting activities that involved family bonding, and they weren't even cool suggestions. “How about mini-golf? Or we could go watch a movie,” He sang, continuing to throw various seasonings into our breakfast, skipping over Feliciano’s cringing at the mention of the dreaded mini-golf our grandfather loved so much. It had to be a shitty idea if even Feliciano didn't agree to it.

I sighed and rolled my eyes, entirely tuning out of the conversation, until the home line began ringing obnoxiously into my train if thought. Before either me or Nonno could react, Feliciano had sprinted across the house and answered, a small part of me happy that I didn't have to answer it. However, this left me and my Nonno… alone. He glanced at me and as soon as he opened his mouth I knew there was going to be trouble.

“So, Lovi, tell me about this Antonio,” He nonchalantly said, tossing the colorful eggs in the pan, my cheeks gaining a far more softer blush. “Well… He's Spanish…” I remarked, Nonno’s slight hum indicating me to continue, clearly not satisfied with my bland answer. He always liked his gossip like his food: juicy, filling and flavorsome. “He laughs and smiles a lot, uh… He does dancing with m-me, and he likes- no, loves tomatoes,” I tried, flicking my gaze up to him, noticing his partially terrifying grip on the pan. I gulped slightly, averting my eyes as he chuckled. “I'm not angry, Lovi,” Now that was such a lie, “But if anything happens-“ “Nonno, please, not today,” I hissed, rubbing my forehead as Nonno pointed with his spatula, trying to reiterate the rules with threats. After he had educated Feliciano and I on the birds and bees, he'd gone and placed down very specific rules. And little stashes of condoms- I would still sometimes find them in my room, if I was unlucky enough. One of those rules was that we could not have any sort of intercourse if any other family member was over, including aunts, uncles and cousins- unless you were quiet, that is. Brownie points if you didn't get caught. A soft frown hardened his eyes, suspicion seeping into his being. “I was going to say, if anything happens to you that you don't approve of, please tell me, Lovi,” He murmured, losing the tension as Feliciano bounded back into the room, clutching the home phone to his chest as I gawked at Nonno.

He giggled, eyeing me with a gaze way too similar to the ones Bella would usually shoot me with. He pressed the phone into my hands with a sly wink, joining Nonno in overseeing the food, but not before practically blowing “It's Antonio,” into my ear. I bit my lip to bite back colourful curses, tenderly putting the device up against my head, pushing back the random burst of protectiveness from Nonno.

“-Ello? Feli, are you ther-“

“Oi, bastard, it's me,”

-Gasp- “Lovi?! Oh my gosh, I'm sorry for anything I did- I mean, I was hoping you would forgive me and maybe we could be friends again, because I want to spend more-“

“Woah there! You have done shit all, relax!”

“… Are you sure?”

“Yes, I'm sure you idiot,”

There was a long drawn out sigh of relief from the other side of the phone, earning an eye roll from my end, barely catching how Feliciano and Nonno shared a look with each other. “Lovi, would you like to come over? We have churros,” He sang, that stupid accent of his earning a scowl and slight dusting of red across my cheekbones. I stole a glance at my overly joyful brother and Nonno, managing to come up with the various scenarios that involved either interacting with them or being horrifically associated with them. Not like me and Feli couldn't be mistaken for anything other than brothers. After delaying the reply for around a minute, I managed to push out the answer. “Fine, I'll be over in ten minutes, you'd better be fucking ready, bastard.”

 

I should have taken fucking mini-golf.

Hell, I'd take anything but this. The French fuck had a Cheshire grin on his face and the Potato bastard was smirking with that obnoxious air as Antonio smiled down at me, the front door ajar. I narrowed my eyes, the revelation that I couldn't go back on the invitation sinking in as I steady glared at the trio. I sighed heavily and snuck inside, unable to avoid Francis’s wondering hands that landed a rather loud smack in my ass, my cheeks flaring up immediately. I heard the German’s snickering being abruptly cut off, my eyes darting behind to observe the commotion. He seemed to be staring at Antonio with terrified eyes, his hands in the air in a sign of surrender as Francis hid behind him. I was about to interject when a soothing feminine voice drifted down the halls. Okay, so I'm coating it in honey, because Mrs Carriedo seemed pretty fucking pissed. There was some rapid yelling of Spanish that made Antonio’s tanned cheeks drain of colour, his eyes widening. He excused himself and ran up the stairs, leaving me with two assholes I'd rather not be left with.

The notorious duo made sure Antonio was gone before they came to stand in front of me, making sure that I took a step backwards, only to have my heel meet with the wall. Those bastards had gone and boxed me in.

“So, we meet again,” Francis cooed, flicking his bangs from his eyes as Gilbert matched his smirk. “And at Toni’s place no less,” Gilbert substantiated, closing the distance to piss me off further. If there was one thing I was taught, it was to hold my ground. Unless I needed to run from the police. Or an ex. “So, continuing from our last chat,” Oh fuck no, French Fries, this isn't on, “We would like to talk about your infatuation with Antoine.” I didn't need a mirror to know all the damn blood in my body had flow right up into my cheeks. “What fucking chat? It consisted of you throwing a stupid and incorrect accusation, end of the damn story, they all lived separately ever fucking after,” I growled, eyes narrowed as the two idiots exchanged a glance, disbelief scrawled across their annoying faces. Francis sighed, placing his cheek in his one palm, plucked and pristine eyebrows drawn together into a subtle frown. “You really don't get what we're asking, do you?” He said, blue gaze locking with my own. Gilbert crossed his arms across his chest, lazily shifting his weight to one hip. “Do you want to fuck Toni, yes or no?” He asked, receiving a slap on the arm from Francis, who looked just about ready to knock out his friend –which would never happen.

I bit the inside of my cheek as I pulled a face, eyes narrowed dangerously at the two friends. “No,” I firmly replied, even though a felt a painful tug at my chest when the word was spat out. I refused to be swayed. My heart may ache for something more, but my mind and stomach weren't convinced. The last time I followed my heart, it ended in some unpleasant situations I'd rather not discuss. I watched as the Potato Bastard smirked at Francis, holding out a hand with an expectant air passing between the two. He huffed, muttering some French under his breath before forking out a ten, pressing it into Gilbert’s waiting palm. It clicked in a few seconds. “You fucking betted on whether I would say yes or no?!” I yelped, eyes aflame as they seemed to notice I was still standing awkwardly in the corner. “It's a good way to make cash,” Gilbert said, shrugging his shoulders as he shoved the money into his back pocket. I prepared to chew out their ears when the Tomato Bastard skipped back into the room, his grin plastered back on.

“Ah, sorry amigos,” He apologized, not taking in the full extent of the scene before him. Francis smiled and Gilbert laughed, thankfully returning to Antonio’s side. I glanced first at the door and then back at the trio, my eyes flickering between the two before making a hasty decision to get out of this terrible situation. I snuck closer to the door, grabbing the handle and slowly turning till I felt the soft kick in my palm, swallowing thickly. So close, so close, so damn- “Lovi? Are you okay?” Antonio asked as he approached me, blush growing as I closed the door far faster than it had been opened. “I'm fine bastard, and after this you and I are going to have a nice chat about explaining the party list to other guests,” I hissed, poking his chest in a way- what the fuck, why the hell was he so fucking ripped. I cursed inwardly as I felt my cheeks finally start getting too warm for my liking. I failed to regain any dignity as the clueless asshole watched me with interest, words beginning to desert me again, finger still awkwardly pressed against a green shirt that matched his damn beautiful eyes… Fuck. I pulled my hand away as if I'd been bitten, stomping around him to catch Gilbert handing over two tens to Francis with a bitter expression, while the French fuck smiled as if he'd won a lottery. I glared at both of them, dubbing the entire group a bag of dicks.

Antonio watched me for a few seconds, looking rather amused. He shook his head before smiling widely again, clasping his hands together. “Who wants breakfast?” He suddenly exclaimed, eyes gleaming as he saw how both Francis and Gilbert seemed to brighten, glossing over my confusion. He lead us to the kitchen, with Francis’s excited chatter making me curious. And I could see why when we walked into every chef’s dream.

The burnt orange walls beautifully complimented the turquoise tiles and black granite tabletop, pots, pans and garlic hanging from the old ox plough attached to the ceiling. I noted how every single area I'd been introduced to had photos upon photos of the Spaniards, and the kitchen was no different, most of the ones in this room being associated with either food or cooking. The smell of spices and home cooked food invaded the air with a pleasant aroma, one that I could appreciate due to the Italian blood that ran in my veins. I watched as Antonio went right over to the stove and picked a hanging pan, the movements all seeming natural as he set the bottom right stove alight. With a grin, he grabbed a couple of ingredients from the fridge, moving with a speed that could rival Nonno’s. The small posse sat down around the granite table, observing the blur that was Antonio, silently thanking whoever decided to put tall bar stools as seats for tiny people like me. I watched as he flung around some eggs, diced tomatoes and grated cheese, the movements reminding me of something similar to the jugglers we'd seen in one of the many special overseas trips Nonno liked to plan. He finished with a flourish of salt and pepper, cutting the breakfast into equal thirds with scary precision, pushing over a plate to each of us. I stared at the simple breakfast with a calculated eye, wondering if the bastard slipped something into the bronze omelette.

Reluctantly, I put a spoonful of the egg into my mouth, still feeling rather full from Nonno’s breakfast. I crushed my lips together to keep in a moan, the flavors rolling in perfect harmony, my eyes closed to properly focus on tasting. When I opened them, the idiots were not so subtly staring at me. Quietly, to myself of course, I congratulated the tomato bastard for pulling it off, taking leisurely paced bites as I enjoyed the taste.

When I finished the last bite, the french fuck was staring at me expectantly, leaning forward to listen to what I had to say. “Well,” Francis urged, my gaze darting between the French Fries and the Tomato Bastard. “It's okay,” I stubbornly commented, knitting my fingers together as Francis blanched, eyes wide with shock. “Okay?! Just ‘okay’ does not fit this dish!” He argued, invading my personal space by leaning way too close, a deep frown etched into his features. “I suggest you go and educate yourself on culinary criticism, and then return with comments,” He huffed, sitting up straight once again to observe my growing blush, which had nothing to do with embarrassment. I sighed, placing the fork and knife in my grip beside one another, struggling to keep from blowing my top. “Firstly, there's too much salt,” I calmly started, brushing off my jeans as I struggled to keep from smashing my fist into that pretty fucktard’s face, “Secondly, if the omelette had been in the pan for a second longer, it probably would have burnt and thirdly, the balance of the tomatoes and cheese is quite appalling, and don't get me started on the lack of spices.” There was deafeningly shocked silence as they all stared at me in surprise, ruby, emerald and sapphire gazing at my slowly redding cheeks and defiant gaze.

Francis, of course, was the first to burst.

“Y-you can't be serious?! The seasoning was perfect, the cheese and tomatoes were brilliantly placed and it was crispy, not burnt!” He defended, not at all taking the criticism well, even if it wasn't meant for him. “You asked and you received an honest answer, so I suggest you untie your damn feminine panties and shut your fucking mouth,” I hissed back, huffing as I dared to challenge one of the most esteemed Consumer Studies students. And it's like a bomb went off in the kitchen as the sentence finished.

“Come on, why are we fighting guys-“

“Excuse you! I have normal boxers on!”

“Low blow, Vargas, low blow,”

“Can you all just shut the fuck up-?!”

“Guys!”

“Why?! You’re the one who's shouting!”

“Oh ho, you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

Silence. Deafing silence filled the room as everyone turned to stare at the suddenly sheepish Prussian. Even Francis looked shocked as he openly stared at Gilbert, confusion taking over Antonio’s expression. Everyone had caught the jibe and Gilbert had realized his mistake too late. “Shit- Lovino, I'm so sorry-“ I cut him off with a piercing glare, trying hard not to think on what he'd just said, finding it harder and harder to suck in a proper breath. “I used to…” I muttered, jumping off the stool with jerky limbs as I struggled with the tears. I'd never gotten over the fact that she had left Feliciano and me. Sure dad had died, and Feliciano was a perfect copy of him, but why did she go? Nonno was nice and all, but she… She was our mother. “Thanks, but no thanks, Tomato bastard,” I hissed, making for the front entrance. Like hell I'd be spending time with those two assholes. There's a reason why I avoid them, and I may as well not change anything. I did fine on my own. Right?

As I reached the beautifully carved entrance, I felt anger and a lingering disappointment worm back into my mood. Who was I kidding? Of course Antonio wouldn't just invite me along, he had far more ‘important’ friends to get to. I was second best choice -third if you didn't count the two bastards as one choice- and I'd be damned if I acted as a awkward fourth wheel while the other three were all ‘buddy buddy’. Why the fuck did he invite me along anyways?! I fared well in being a unicycle, and a fucking unicycle I would be- My body jolted to a halt as a firm, calloused hand wrapped its way around my wrist, eyes widening in surprise as I spun around, speckled gold meeting gleaming emerald. It was probably the most awkward pause as Antonio kept his tight grip on my arm and gaze, my one foot already out the house.

“Lovi, please stay,” I might have been more convinced if he'd been on his knees and begged, but that stupidly cute pout was still starting to win me over before he even opened his mouth. “I understand if you don't like my cooking, not everyone does, and Francis tends to get really overprotective and-“ I silenced him with a snort, rolling my eyes. “You're such a stupid bastard, you know that?” I growled, glancing over his shoulder at Francis and Gilbert, the latter taking on the appearance of a kicked puppy as it seemed like the Frenchman scolded him. He followed my gaze, a small sad smile on his expression. “I'm not entirely sure why your upset, but I have a good guess…” He said, meeting my eyes once again as his expression brightened with minuscule hope. I frowned back, eyes narrowed and blazing as Antonio dared to try understand what went on inside my head. “Please, Lovi… I just wanted to make sure you didn't hate me…” He softly proclaimed, reaching for my other hand to hold in his, as if he actually had permission. I yanked my hand away from his grip, not letting him take the other as I turned back around with a speeding heart.

“Three o'clock, t-tomorrow, no later.”

It would have been so much easier if I hated him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap, I'm sorry for abandoning you guys for so long!  
> School brought out its executioner for us seniors. I also lost a lot of interest in this chapter after a while, especially with a role play on the side (which will be spawning a couple of longer fics when I finish off my other fics)  
> But I'm back on track and excited to write the next couple of chapters before I close up this baby.


	5. Trouble is her only friend and he's back again.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oh. my. god  
> life does really not love me. I got very much side-tracked from this chapter and with my second most important year in highschool in swing, I am seriously stuck in the imagination department. My roleplay - well, fifth one now - has also absorbed most of my free time. BUT, this is the story I am determined to see through, although a ton of my chapters I'm really not proud of, even this one. Somethings I really don't think properly fall in line with my understanding of the characters, but it's more of a 'i need this plot point, so...'  
> Anyways, apologies for the absence, but I appreciate the comments and all that jazz! It really helped me to finish this.

The stark smell of chlorine would have been more comforting if I wasn’t sitting next to the two bastards of the FAGs. Four days… it took Antonio four days with six hours to apologize for Gilbert’s slipup and convince me to give them a second chance. It also included three free pizzas too – We all know that was the deal breaker. From then I had been letting the culprits pay for their crimes in apologies and begging. In the end, however, I reluctantly accepted their pleads and began to enjoy some of the fucked up activities they got themselves into; Go-carting down the road, having crazy sleepovers (which would sometimes include alcohol, depending on the mood) and other spaz activities like Twister games and drunk karaoke.

I sighed as the memories and list went on from the last few days. We were all waiting for Antonio to finish so we could _just_ _go already._ I would have taken out my sketchbook if A) Francis and Gilbert weren’t there and B) If I hadn’t left my bag at Antonio’s house when we left down to join the Tomato Bastard as he did his daily dose of laps. Instead, I was doomed to die of boredom. I spaced out slightly and glanced at my watch for the umpteenth time, eyes narrowed and gaze deadly as it quickly returned to the Spaniard still doing lap upon lap. “Augh, how long do we still have to wait?” Gilbert groaned, whining like the little bitch he is. “It’s only been half an hour and Antonio usually works out for one and a half,” Francis replied, also seeming like he was bored out of his mind and on the brink of standing up and leaving. I was on the verge of falling asleep, to be honest. I blinked for a few seconds before standing, too bored and tired for this shit. “I’ll catch up with you bastards tomorrow… Feliciano’s cooking ravioli and like hell I’m missing that,” I grumbled, receiving a shrug from Gilbert and an exhale from Francis. “Whatever, just bring back some for us, eh? Remember the party tonight,” The latter smirked, noticing my groan of aspiration to the event I hadn’t really signed up for. “I wish I didn’t,” I responded.

Without the weight on my back, I felt slightly disorientated as I hopped down the aisle. At the last step, I lost a bit of my balance and stumbled, straight into another asshole. “Oi! Watch were you’re- Oh, it’s _you_ ,” I growled as the tall Matric glowered down at me, a condescending smirk on his lips. It used to be a pleasant smile once upon a time, but ever since one of Feli’s friends, Kiku, started hanging out with this Greek kid at school, he’d gotten a little more than just sour. “ _Lovi,_ it’s such a pleasure to see you,” Sadık grinned, watch me like a predator watches its prey. “Well, it is a fucking irritation to see you, so I’m just going to go,” I replied with a faux smile and sickly sweet tone, walking past him. I should have known he wouldn’t just leave me alone. “Oh _come on_ , don’t I get a little credit for being your boyfriend a few months back?” He said, trotting up behind me and keeping the same pace. I huffed and stopped, the bastard nearly crashing into me as I jabbed a finger at his chest. “No. No you don’t, because you fucking cheated on me you little _shit,_ ” I growled, old feelings of anger and betrayal clawing up from my stomach through my lungs and heart till it finally enveloped my mind and throat. I kept my gaze with the white rimmed Ray Bands, breathing slightly heavy. I didn’t notice Francis and Gilbert starting to make their way down the stairs to interfere.  Sadık eventually shrugged, smile gone to be replaced by a frown. “It happens to everyone, and I was _drunk_ and _you_ were hardly putting anything into our relationship _,_ ” He replied, my mouth twisting into a snarl. “Don’t put this on me as if I was the one who slept with Hercules!” I yelled, attracting a bit of attention as tears actually began to sting my eyes. I hated that he was right. He rolled his own eyes and made an aspirated sound, my temper starting to boil over. “Whatever, you asshole, I’m going,” I huffed, turning around and storming off. That was, until I heard a low mutter above the splashing in the pool and hum of the lights overhanging.

  _“Stupid temperamental bitch”_

I stopped, ignoring the urge to sniff as sets of footsteps echoed in the large space of the public pool. Without a second thought on the matter, I launched an attack, red coating my vision. I saw a smirk flash by as we started brawling, kicking and biting (more on my part), growls and snarls coming from my throat. I stood back, sporting a few bruises and a red set of scratch marks painting my cheeks, glaring at my ex-boyfriend. _Fuck Nonno and his advice to run away from an ex. No one insults me like that without at least getting away limping._ I admired the blood streaking down Sadik’s upper lip, having perfected my head-butting in earlier years of hand-to-hand fighting. His nostrils flared like a bull, eyebrows furrowed and glasses skew. I stood straight and turned my back. I’m not brave or stupid enough to know that I can’t win this fight. He was just a simple punching bag. I didn’t want to stay. Besides, it’s better to have gotten the last- A knee hit the back of mine, eyes widening in alarm as I tried to gain my balance with breath down my neck. I tried to take a step forward, yet a hand shoved all hope of stability straight out the door. I just wish I would have followed it to the outdoors and fresh air.

The water loomed with inviting arms as gravity did its reluctant job. I closed my eyes and hoped for the best.

But then the side of the pool collided with-… white and soft turquoise marred my mind as a mental reboot occurred. My arms felt heavy along with everything else. A cloud of red put a halo around my head as my eyes refused to open to the blinding florescent lights spearing light through the blue. But I am glad I didn’t open my eyes. A comforting presence and strong arms cradled the limbs of mine that refused to work, a sudden rush and confusing static boomed in my shocked senses before gravity took a full hold of the situation and the cold air suddenly made the previously warm liquid much more inviting. Murmurs felt like whispers against my ears, refusing to actually try do anything as my numb limbs began to pain from the return of feeling. I hear a few yells until one booms above my head, a fury I’ve never heard before. Lazily, I blink away the chlorine from my eyes. And, dear god, I’m not sure whether to be turned on or terrified by the look in Antonio’s eyes.

Wait… Antonio?

Why is he…

It takes a few seconds to realize where I am and why my crush (small obsession) is standing with me pressed against chiseled abs with sopping wet clothing. I groan in aspiration and everyone’s attention shifts from the scene of Gilbert throttling Sadik to intently stare at me. “My phone’s fucked, isn’t it?” I sigh quietly, feeling exhausted from the fight and- oh _Jesus_ , that hurts. I hiss as the pain in my head catches up with the rest of my senses, Antonio’s perplexed and stupid face finally shifting.

“I can take him home-“

“Didn’t Feli and Mr Vargas go to movies or some shit?”

“Oui, this might be harder than we thought.”

“He can come home with me. We have medical stuff at home,” Antonio settles, the two fucktards looking between each other before nodding in agreement. I sighed and closed my eyes, the side of my head feeling ruined from the collision. I was pretty sure there was at least a graze there. I was shuffled slightly and put down on the chairs, my eyesight blurry and fading in and out of focus as Antonio quickly dried off, both of the dickwads hanging back as they scolded Sadik, whom neither looked sorry nor confident. I grimaced as Antonio finally picked me up again, my senses swarming with static-

It was my hearing that recovered first, followed by my sense of smell. The rustle of curtains and low, melodic voices drifted by my submerged ears, still disoriented as smells of paprika, vanilla and warm summer fields coated the darkness behind my eyes. “…Not looking good…nasty graze…worry…” The higher pitched breeze murmured, quickly being replied by a gentle wind full of fear and nerves. “…unconscious…hour now…if he lost his memory?” I blearily attempted to open my eyes, blinking in the soft light of the afternoon, noticing that I was wearing another set of clothing and covered in multiple blankets while my head ached with, what I could only guess to be, an ice block. The Tomato Bastard was the first react, his mother offering me a soft smile. “Lovi? Can you hear me?” The other asked in a panicked voice, my frown quick to turn to deadpan look as I flicked his nose, a indignant yelp falling from the teenager’s mouth. “Of course I can,” I huffed, snorting as that stupid smile overtook his expression of concern. He chuckled lightly, his mother also letting out a breathy laugh. “Thank you for… looking after me,” I replied, a little dazed as dots speckled my vision. Antonio offered a sympathetic grin, a little less lopsided and more edgy. “Your grandfather will be here in half-an-hour. Apparently there was a roadblock on the highway,” Antonio's mother chipped in, my attention shifting to the weather worn smile. I went to nod in understanding, but found my vision flickering and my stomach twisting uncomfortably as I tried to move my head too fast, pressing my palm to my forehead as I hissed. Both Carriedo members hushed me and pushed on my chest to get me to lie down. _Well, now I know where the Tomato Bastard gets his weird motherly instincts,_ My mind idly wondered, a startled frown pulling at my lips. “It seems you might have a concussion, Lovino, but otherwise your head took the fall quite well,” Olivia mused, coming over to shift around the blankets and the ice brick behind my head, clearly trying to keep her hands occupied with making me as comfortable as possible. I sighed softly, closing my eyes briefly to let my vision recover, glancing at the overly protective mother. “Grazie. I appreciate you looking after me, Olivia,” I replied, the usual respect I had towards women quickly resurfacing. In fact, Antonio looked a bit shocked. The woman smiled, the lines filling out almost perfectly. “I have dinner currently on the stove, so I have to leave you two. Toni, be nice and please do help señor Vargas if he requires assistance,” She chirped to the still awestruck Bastard, who merely nodded his head as a reply.

Antonio's gaze quickly drifted back to me, two golden green gems watching me with an intensity that no man would want directed towards them. “You… Were actually really pleasant,” He breathed, my breezy smile quickly falling away to a scowl that the words brought. “Ah- What I mean is, you didn't cuss at her o-or say a backhanded compliment- nothing…” He shook his head, clearly trying to backtrack from his screw up with his words, judging my feelings based on my expression. _Which is really a shit idea,_ I thought, raising an eyebrow as a blush bridged the edge of his sharp cheekbones. “Let me tell you something, bastard. A woman is a fine creature that deserves respect. Men have barks but no bites, at least, bites that don't hurt as much. _Women,_ however, latch on and never let go. Either you get the snake bite or you get a prideful and wonderful companion —That's what Nonno says,” I begrudgingly explained, amused to find him entirely engrossed with whatever I was saying. He blinked for a few seconds, the gears turning in his head and eyes as he took in the age old wisdom I'd received.

“Makes sense,” He eventually agreed, shrugging as the worried crease between his eyebrows returned. “How's your head?” He asked, a sigh passing through my lips. “It feels… Sore,” I blandly stated, shrugging my shoulders. At times, it felt like a fog would cloud my thoughts and I couldn't really grasp the information until I truly had my hands on it, my full attention focused solely on the thought. “But my question is _who the fuck changed my clothing?”_ I basically growled, the small detail having nagged at me till the fog let me grasp it, shuffling a little as I watched Antonio's face go beetroot red. “Oh, a-ah, um… It was me, actually…” he shyly chuckled , scratching the back of his head as he avoided my eyes, which were probably being very nicely complimented with the bright blush flaring up on my cheeks. “ _YOU WHAT?!_ ” I screeched, suddenly sitting up with wide eyes and more than surprise or embarrassment in my expression, clutching the blankets close to my chest as my vision blurred. “ _YOU COULD HAVE MOLESTED ME. AND I WOULDN’T HAVE KNOWN,”_ I continued to babble, feeling tears in my eyes at the mere thought. I honestly wasn't sure whether the idea of Antonio seeing me stark naked was good or a bad thought. Then again, I was as untouched as the Virgin Mary. Hell, I'd struggled to kiss Sadık, for fuck’s sake. Antonio was quick to go another shade of red, his irises rimmed in white.

“No! Lovi, I'm seriously not that kind of person-“

“Like hell you are!”

“Lovi, come on, you know me better. I'm seriously not some sort of pervert!”

I had managed to somehow shuffled further away from him, nose poised in the air and face all screwed up. _I know he isn't._ _I know he wouldn't._ “S-stupid bastard,” I sniffed, frowning as I promptly lay down again, pouting to myself as a sigh of defeat echoed behind me. “Sometimes, I really have to rethink if you're actually in my grade,” Antonio mumbled, my mind conjuring up exactly what expression he'd be wearing. There was a rather awkward pause, the open window behind me letting in the soft chirps of the sparrows and finches. I was pretty sure Antonio was shivering because of the cold. I glanced over my shoulder to check, only to find my host gone.

_What. An. Asshole._

I turned back around and huffed, curling up in my blankets and feeling the ice block numbing the side of my head. _May as well sleep till Nonno and Feli get here…_

I woke up slowly to someone gently shaking my shoulder, groggily raising my head to catch two pairs of worry-filled amber eyes. I blinked an offered a weak smile as Nonno crushed me in a hug, a wheeze passing through my lungs as Feliciano decided to join in the family pile-on. “Please- I want my rips intact,” I just managed to breathe, both Italians pulling away, yet crowding close, as if I was lying on my death bed. “Dio, are you okay? We got the call, and apparently you were badly hurt- and…” Nonno cut himself off, shakily sighing as Antonio lingered in the background on the stool he'd been sitting on while we chatted, a blanket around his shoulders and a warm smile on his lips. “Just a bump to the head, Nonno, I'll be fine,” I murmured, still feeling quite tried from the nap. “Ah, sorry to interject, but we have some food and drink if you'd like to stay for a few minutes,” Antonio piped up, bouncing a little in his seat. Both Italians brightened, either one the spitting image of the other. It was quite funny how different I could appear at times. “We'll be on our way when Lovino is more fit to travel,” The elder declared, as if we were taking a journey across the Amazon rather than the road. “Besides, I know your mother makes some of the best churros I have ever tasted!” He laughed heartily, glancing my way and pressing an awkward kiss —Which I immediately recoiled from— to my cheek before standing and making his way to the kitchen with Feliciano at his heels, the cheeky bastard sending me a wink before he disappeared.

“Hey, Lovi? Do you want some churros?” My glare softened as I looked to the abandoning bastard, eyes narrowed as I pulled the blankets over my nose. “Si,” I replied quietly, watching the other beam and scramble up to go rushing into the kitchen and back, a plate in his hand. “Here, Lovi,” He excitedly chirped, not giving me a chance to take it properly before feeding me the treat. My eyes widened and I sat up so I wouldn't choke, chewing the dessert as a blush started to worm it's way back onto my cheeks. I opened my mouth to complain, but found that Antonio took the gesture another way. He happily continued to feed me another churro, eyes shining with the same joy I was so used to. In fact, I think I might have been falling in love with since the beginning- I stopped that thought and simply let this moment slip, reluctantly letting the older teenager happily feed me as if I was a child or his l-lover.

It was quite a while later before Nonno deemed me “travel-worthy.” I exhaled heavily as Nonno finished his chat with the Carriedos. Antonio sent me a wistful look, slowly standing as the sky turned dark outside the window and the bird’s tweeting had been replaced by the creaking of crickets. “Toni, my boy!” Nonno almost roared, slinging an arm around the teen’s shoulders as he did per usual. “I was wondering if you could help an old man with making the great trek to the other side of the street with some precious cargo?” He mused, offering the flustered and embarrassed spaniard a wink and nod in my direction, the infernal battle of my shade of skin tone quickly switching to bright red. “S-sure, I guess,” He stuttered in reply, trotting over to my side and very gingerly picking me up, the oversized clothing hanging off my figure. “If you drop me, I will personally break your ribs,” I hissed, the threat being brushed off with a smile and a chuckle, the bastard easily being able to carry my weight.

“I don't expect anything less.”

**Author's Note:**

> For the record, there might be delicate subjects but unlike 'The Echoes of Bells and Unheard Prayers' this fic is going to simply be a free butterfly and do whatever the fuck it wants, so I have little to no idea of what is going to be in the future of this fic.


End file.
